Sandpit, Sandcastle
by Smooshy
Summary: [AU, RikuSora] An escape, a return and a burial. Riku discovers that getting what you want isn't always linear.
1. Three Thirty Seven

**Disclaimer, et al:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Future Riku/Sora, so if that isn't your cup of tea then move it along. AU, despite what this little taster may look like.

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_I tried counting sheep, but there's one I always miss. - Eels, I Need Some Sleep_

**00: Three Thirty-Seven**

Riku dreams that he is back on the beach, but this time he's alone. He'd have to make his own way down to the water, sinking his fingers into the sand to claw to the surf, and even if he could force his muscles to drag him the distance, he's not sure he could convince his arms to push him upwards: to sit there instead of having the water wash against his face. He settles for sitting where he is, elbows collapsing under his weight several times before he can manoeuvre to lean against one of the odd jutting things he can't really focus on.

He's aware that it's a dream. The tide slowly moves towards him. Watching the water move backwards and forwards soon makes him nauseous, but he doesn't worry when he heaves, because the black mass he's leaning against, the sand and even his own legs are shifting like a heat wave, preparing to vanish when he wakes up. The feeling in his stomach will vanish too.

A shape materialises in front of him, and it's only through familiarity that he can distinguish this shape as Sora. Sora leans towards him and he starts to pick out individual features: nose, eyes, mouth, hair. He holds out his hand to Riku and Riku just stares at it, trying to make out the lines in his palm. When he can't, he looks away to the vague moon and thinks: at night there is always somewhere the sun is still shining.

Sora situates himself between Riku's line of sight and the moon, leans in and smiles beatifically. He nods. Riku fears that maybe he spoke his thought out loud, or he was too right about his eyes' inability to lie, but he stops thinking at all when Sora reaches out and presses a finger to his lips. Sora grins and says 'shh', and his voice sounds like the sea.


	2. Ice Age

**Disclaimer, et al:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts. This chapter didn't exactly go as planned, but here it is.

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_If time is a river then we shall all meet death by water. - Jeanette Winterson, Gut Symmetries_

**01: Ice Age**

Riku gets good grades in school. He keeps his head down, ignores everyone with what seems like arrogance but is really a failure to relate. People are peripheral, and on the bus every morning they barely enter his field of vision. High-rise buildings and the cloud-covered sky they partially obscure pass the windows. He looks forward and reads the sign on the back of the driver's compartment: fares, fare reductions for students and pensioners, where to find a bus-pass application. When the bus stops he crunches his ticket in his hand and leaves it on the seat. 

Sometimes the river near his house freezes. No place is perfect. He wonders if the world will one day be cold enough that the vein of the river will carry the ice into the ocean, and they will both freeze entirely, like a bridge: maybe travelling would be easier than his first attempt, and he'd discover something better.

&&&

Sora gets off the bus two stops early. People are already complaining about the heat, heads resting against the windows. He shouts _toodle-oo_ and tugs Kairi by the wrist, and she almost trips her way down the steps as he twists to wave goodbye to the driver. They're by the stop at the beach, its metal pole sagging to one side like it's giving up and the tide a distant line waiting to be pulled ashore. Sora kicks off his shoes and stuffs them into his backpack, signalling Kairi to follow his lead. She rolls her eyes but complies anyway. As she bends down, she misses Sora's impish grin and consequently misses the warning that she is about to be shoved none too gently into the dunes.

He watches and laughs as she dusts herself off, still sprawled on her back in the sand. Any minute now, retaliation is certain, so he cuts her off, takes his backpack and runs along the beach. A few seconds later she's tearing after him, abandoning her bag and shoes.

"Vengeance!" She screeches, and soon enough she catches up to him. Two seconds later, he has a mouthful of sand.

"You know, Kairi, you look like this weedy little thing, but you're really built like a sumo wres-"

As he speaks, she moves and sits down hard on his feet, and puts on a sickly-sweet voice. "It's called muscle." 

Eventually she shifts and lies on her stomach, imitating Sora, and looks out to the horizon. He chances a glance at her and she doesn't return it, but Sora knows that she can feel him watching, thinking. She purses her lips in thought. "You don't get off the bus early for no reason, lazy. So?"

He turns away from her and looks out. The tide doesn't seem like it's edging any closer. The wading birds are far away, beaks stabbing and foraging in the shallow pools. "Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

Kairi turns and rests her head in her hand, one elbow in the sand. "Like the meaning of life?"

"Nah. Why are we on _this_ island?"

Kairi turns onto her back and wonders why she feels restless when it's Sora who's asking restless questions. "Yeah. Sometimes."

Sora lets the pause drag a bit, and digs out a little piece of wood from the sand with his thumb. "Ever think of an answer?" Kairi shrugs her shoulders. He frowns, but only lets the expression sit for a few moments before looking out to the horizon again. Kairi burrows her feet into the sand and imagines thousands of tiny dormant creatures sleeping underneath and waiting for water.

The tide starts to move in, but slowly, so they stay where they are. Kairi says, "You know that test we have in English next week?"

"Uh, I do now?"

Kairi laughs and Sora joins in. They lie side by side until the tide is washing right in front of them. Kairi's hair is hanging in rat-tails by the time they leave the beach. When Sora reaches his front door he waves Kairi goodbye and she answers that she'll come over tomorrow. It's a Friday, so Sora expects that she'll arrive the next day with a stack of papers and highlighters, ready to study before he's even awake. He waits outside just long enough to hear a maternal wail about the state of Kairi's hair, then he closes the door behind him.

His mother is sitting in the lounge, a long list on the table in front of her and a wineglass in hand. She gives Sora a bright smile when he slumps onto the couch and hugs his bag to his chest. "Never should of stopped going to those AA meetings, mum."

She uses the notebook on her lap to whack him on the head.

&&&

For whatever reason, Sora can't sleep that night. He groans and tosses onto his stomach, then mashes the pillow over his head. He can't think of any reason for a sleepless night: next week's test isn't important enough to worry him, the room isn't too hot, and the clock isn't mocking him. It just blinks three thirty-seven.


	3. Oh, I Wish I Had a River

**Disclaimer, et al:** Alas, I don't own the characters! This chapter gave me hell. I underestimated the power of Axel, which was a very silly thing to do, and ended up having to rewrite it four times, so I have mixed feelings about the result. The one is a little more coherent than the previous chapters, and I promise that I _do_ have a plot. I also promise that the vague Axel/Riku vibe in this chapter is a passing thing, and that the story will, in the end, be Riku/Sora. You've got to put up with your rain to get your rainbows, people. Thank God I got that cheesy sentiment out the way. The chapter title is a reference to the Joni Mitchell song River, and I urge you to listen to it.

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**02: Oh, I Wish I Had a River**

There was a light on in the basement of Riku's building, and he leaned his chin against the railing attached to the steps that led to the subterranean entrance. A silhouette fluttered behind the glass, disrupting the light, and Riku counted two minutes in his head before a redhead flung the door open and tossed a bag of rubbish at the base of the steps. The man looked from the bagged waste on the ground to the trashcan--five yards away--to his left, and Riku lit a cigarette as he watched.

"Axel. Making an already filthy city even worse," Riku said, and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Might I interest you in the tale of the pot and the kettle?" Riku frowned and Axel made an elaborate imitation of smoking. Riku didn't want to tell him he looked like a old school movie star when he did it: his waist pinched in and one hand across his torso supported his elbow. "Well? Are you going to let me starve down here?"

Riku descended the steps and tossed the cigarette packet to Axel. He also picked up the bag of rubbish and put it in the bin. "How long have you been here?"

"There's a funny story there just _bursting_ to get out, but you don't look receptive today, so I won't bother," Axel answered.

"I'm not receptive? _You_ don't want to talk about it." He let it go when Axel ignored him in favour of lighting his own cigarette.

"You know if the old man catches you doing this again he'll have your balls."

"Don't."

"Your lungs are slowly crisping," Axel said as he took a draw and smiled with his eyes closed. "And eventually you'll be engulfed in the flames of your own sordid addiction."

Riku snorted and turned his attention to the tenements towering around them. The side street was cramped enough to hear every sound from the other flats if you kept your window open, and the sound of passing cars on the main street was drowned out by an arguing couple. Riku followed the sound to the second floor of the building opposite, and watched a shower of clothes explode from the window. Axel sniggered and pointed at the continuing waterfall of items.

"See what I mean? Engulfed." 

Riku stubbed out his cigarette on the step and stood in front of Axel. "Yeah, we get it."

Axel followed him into the building and flicked the cigarette out the door before he closed it. The entry hall was tidy, but as they continued towards Riku's room it became apparent that Riku was not responsible for the order of the rest of the flat, since there was more crumpled paper on the floor than there was on his desk, and more clothes gathered in the corners of the room than there were in his wardrobe. Riku collapsed onto the bed without taking his coat off, and his bag hung from his shoulder for a few seconds before giving up and falling to the floor. He looked from the ceiling to the nightstand. A frameless picture was propped against the lamp.

Riku, however, noticed a subtle difference in the state of the room. "Why do you take my trash out?"

Axel sat beside him and unbuttoned Riku's coat. "Service for the cigarettes I can't afford."

Riku didn't move, and he watched the buttons slide, but Axel didn't open the coat after he'd unbuttoned it. He pulled away to switch the lamp on, and the picture fluttered on one edge. Axel's long fingers pushed it back into place. They lay there until the room darkened completely, while Axel swung his legs and Riku thought about the person across the street. He wondered how he ended up here, when all the other people seemed to be leaving.

Axel laughed, and he heard it reverberate through the bedsprings. "I'll iron that frown out when I can be bothered punching you."

When Riku didn't reply and continued to stare at the ceiling, Axel punched him in the arm anyway.

& & &

When Riku woke up his hair was plastered to one side of his face and a heavy leg was slung across his stomach. Axel's other leg was hanging off the side of the bed, but he still looked comfortable. A glance at the alarm clock confirmed that he'd slept late, so he shoved Axel's leg away and got up, which caused Axel to bolt upright, glance around the room in bewilderment until he finally settled down when he realised where he was.

Riku tore through his clothes until he found a suitable shirt. "Axel, it's eight thirty."

Axel stretched and rolled over to face him. "Again?"

Riku tugged on a new pair of jeans while he answered, "Yeah, again. I need to be at work by nine."

Axel grinned. "You know how they love that carefully fucked up look." 

"I don't have time for a shower, Axel," he said, and tried to flatten his hair by running his fingers through it. "Make yourself useful and get me some coffee."

"And risk the old man lurking out from behind the sugar and recruiting me too? No thanks. I think I'll sun myself a little more."

"He doesn't lurk, and he's not trying to--Axel, get your shoes off the bed."

Axel shucked off his boots and stretched his legs. "You do know it's Saturday?"

Riku immediately felt the tension leave him, and he crawled over the end of the bed. "Move."

Axel complied. "Saturdays off. Must be nice to be you."

"Life's a beach," Riku said. His discomfort returned. He rubbed his eyes. Another glance at the clock confirmed the date. "They'll be getting ready for the carnival. School's out."

"The carnival Naminé's working for?" Riku hummed an affirmative. "So we could go see her. Wouldn't hurt, right?"

"It would."

Axel's hand moved up and it twisted into Riku's hair, and he tugged it softly. His lips were too close to Riku's ear when he started to speak. "I visit Naminé. You catch some waves. Or whatever it is you do there. Life's a beach," Riku shoved Axel's shoulder and rolled his eyes. "I'm not being cute, just fucking listen to me. Make a sandpit and bury yourself, or go with the crazy idea."

Riku didn't turn around, despite the fact that Axel was invading his personal space. "I told you I'm not going."

Axel leered and reached over Riku's head. He leaned in, about to kiss him, but at the last minute he tilted his head to speak into Riku's ear again. "Oh, but you _are_."

Axel sat up, straddled him, and shoved the photo from the nightstand onto Riku's chest.

& & &

Riku left his flat, minus one Axel, after he'd packed. He carried his bag with him--there wasn't much in it. In the middle of the day there was little to no human traffic close to his destination, so he ignored the subway and walked the two miles to the river. The riverbank was at the bottom of a steep slope, which ran from the edge of a school playing field, and Riku had to skirt around a group of kids in the middle of their weekend hockey session. He kept his eyes down.

After skidding the last few metres of the hill, he sat on one of the benches and flaked a few green chips of paint off the armrest. He pushed his collar up around his face and curled into his coat.

& & &

He is standing on the smallest island, and his boat is tethered to the dock. There's no one else there, and the wind through the drooping palms is the sound that replaces the standard noise of children laughing. Even the palms look tired. Riku empathises. It's the end of summer, but the wind is still warm enough to go outside without a jacket.

It is the end of summer, and Riku is fifteen. He looks around the beach and sees his usual spot, elevated from the rest of the coast. He remembers sitting there, Kairi bringing him cookies or ice cream, and he remembers Sora standing in front of him as he sat on the arch of the lone tree. Sora, blocking out the sun.

He's the oldest fifteen year old in the world.

He crosses the beach and walks to the outcrop of rock hidden by ferns as tall as he is, and he moves them from the mouth of the cave, careful not to break any of the stalks. The tunnel is already becoming too small for him to walk through comfortably, and he has to stoop to reach the part where it opens out. When he stands in the cave that used to serve as the best hiding place in the archipelago, the place filled with the most secrets in its rayless places, he can't decide whether he is growing or the island is shrinking.

He imagines that one day his home will contract so much that it will swallow him completely. He can imagine his teacher, today, talking about the death of stars, and the density so great that not even light can escape. He picks up a flint from the ground and glances, trying to find an empty part of the wall. There are so many pictures, from so many generations, and Riku has yet to contribute. He chooses a place next to a picture of a boy holding a sword, one he recalls Sora drawing and begging him to add his own image next to it.

He scratches the outline of a door onto the wall. He goes over the lines three times, just to make sure that it stands out amongst the other drawings, and as he does the idea comes to him. He is growing, or the island is getting smaller. He can feel his eyes looking at the horizon, and his home is losing focus.

He says it out load, and it echoes around the cave. _I'm leaving_. The tiny picture of Sora to his left stares at him, and he stares back. He looks away and draws a handle on the door, and a few minutes later, when he's still admiring his handiwork, something moves behind him.

Sora is standing at the entrance, grinning at finally catching Riku in the act of something childish. Riku stands and dusts the grime from his knees, and levels a stare at Sora that is both a greeting and a challenge.

"I was just leaving," he says, as he reaches Sora's side. He holds out his hand and smirks. "Come with me?"

Sora says no.

Riku leaves Sora to draw on the walls of the caves and to play at war on the beach as the sun sets. He unties his boat and rows back to the main island, and he doesn't look back.

& & &

Three hours and four cigarettes later, Riku had left the river and stood in a mass of people at the train station. The lit sign hanging over the rail network map had changed since he last saw it: it was now written in cursive. Posted around the map were numerous flyers for the restoration campaign; they were putting together a committee to help clean up the streets, donate to underprivileged areas and restore the city to its former splendour. Hollow Bastion. Riku felt the words form in his mouth. 

It was nine minutes until the train was due to leave. He focussed on the flyer in front of him. If Axel was late then Riku could just go back to the flat. He could abandon this, and let Axel go where he pleased. There was an announcement, and the disembodied voice's accent was strange. It was that mix of Hollow Bastion and some unidentifiable location, similar to Axel's, and his own. Seven minutes.

Riku saw a girl with short brown hair speaking to a small group huddled around her. He watched her motion to the litter that inevitably blew into the station, and the graffiti next to the bathroom doors.

"I know the person who painted that," Axel's voice came from Riku's left, and he started. "Time to go?"

Riku hesitated and looked from his bag to the map, to the girl whose volume was increasing, and back to Axel. "No." 

Axel grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer so their foreheads were flush. "I didn't want to have to say this, but you're being an insensitive asshole," Axel said. His voice was airy. "We need this."

Riku didn't move away, and he didn't care that people were staring at them. He closed his eyes and felt the breath he was holding, each rib like the bar of a cage. Five minutes. "_You_ do."

Axel grinned and his tapped his fingers against the nape of Riku's neck. "Think of it as mutually beneficial."

Riku pulled away and lifted his bag. "That's the way it always is with me and you."

He left Hollow Bastion with more than he'd arrived with.


End file.
